Shattered Sanctuary
by Got Tea
Summary: My entry for the CFO September FF challenge. It's less than 1000 words in MS Word, I promise. Gil and Sara struggle to heal when they find their privacy shattered.


Sara Sidle had always been fiercely independent. Her tenacity and drive had carried her through years of abuse and the turmoil of foster care, teaching her distance herself from others in order to survive and to rely and trust only herself and a very select few. Gil Grissom had always been a solitary character, a loner focused on his studies and observations of his surroundings. Finding a soul mate of similar tendencies to his, someone with the ability to appreciate and share in his private and solitary nature had been a welcome and wonderful change in his life. For Sara, a life with Gil was something she had longed for; a quiet and loving existence with unconditional acceptance. A place far removed from the daily grind of life, death and misdeeds. Their own private haven that kept their secret and was safe from any and all: until the emergence of one Natalie Davis.

After five days in the hospital hooked up to more tubes and wires than she could bear, Sara begged doctors to let her go home. She was rehydrated, had been treated for sunstroke, exposure and severe sunburn. Her body chemistry was returning to its normal balanced levels and her arm had been pinned and then placed in the wretched itchy, scratchy, uncomfortable and heavy cast. From a plethora of past experiences, Sara had learned to hate hospitals. This time there was one positive, and that was her other half. Gil had kept vigil beside her bed, encouraging her to sip water and gently soothing her when nightmares roused her from troubled sleep time after time. But Sara longed for her own home; a shower, her dog, and a night in her own bed curled up with Gil. But mostly she was longing to get back to her safe haven.

For in the last three days, since she had been alert enough to receive visitors, her team mates had filtered in to check on her and Gil, who was also MIA from shift. Though nothing had been said, and all her visitors had been nothing short of delighted to see her doing so well, there was an unspoken air of confusion, disbelief and shock in their interactions. Gil had belatedly realized what his words had construed in the layout room after finding the miniature, and now, with their secret out in the open, the pair felt decidedly uncomfortable and in the spotlight, as though they had be thrust into a fish bowl and placed on the break room table for observation.

Sara shivered and shifted uncomfortably as Gil gently massaged shampoo into her hair and then rinsed it out with soft, caring fingers. He watched her sigh with pleasure as the last remnants of the desert flowed down the drain, and winced as he gently ran a soap filled sponge over her battered and bruised limbs. Her shoulders, hips, elbow, knees and left thigh were all mottled black, blue and purple and her joints were stiff and sore. She flinched slightly as soap ran into a massive sand and dirt abrasion running down her back.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, rinsing the wound clear before gently taking her into his arms. Sara nestled her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She felt raw and exposed, unable to just sink into her safe, separate, home life, when the world was pressing in on her, intruding on the sanctuary she and Gil had so carefully crafted together. The feeling was overwhelming, choking and saddening, as though she had suffered a terrible loss. Gil could feel the tension in her body and he closed his eyes, knowing her thoughts without having to ask. He knew what was coming at work; he had already had a taster when he had called Conrad from the hospital and informed him that he needed personal time, effective immediately. He had seem the same expressions on the faces of his team that Sara had, had seen the bewilderment and incomprehension in their features as they struggled to grasp the concept of Sara and the boss as an item. Their knowledge left him feeling empty and violated; as though he was suddenly the bug under the microscope, instead of the scientist above it. Carefully he helped her out of the shower and the plastic protecting her cast. He wrapped her in a large bath sheet, gently toweling her hair dry before easing her into bed. Sara moved slowly and stiffly, but when he slid in next to her, she shuffled carefully into his arms with a soft sigh of gratitude.

Her head rested against his chest as he ran his fingers over her shoulder and upper arm. He felt her trembling in his grasp and heard her stifled sniff, and so slid further down the bed so they were eye to eye. Gently touching her cheek he tried to smile reassuringly, but couldn't find it in him. He was just as unsure as she was, and could not bring himself to make false promises.

"It's over, isn't it?" she murmured sadly. "Something is going to have to change." Gil sighed, and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"I think so," he agreed, severely disheartened not only by the coming changes to their circumstances, but also by her suffering and his knowledge that any disruption from their quiet routine would not help her to recover in any way from her horrific ordeal. Angry at the way politics so rudely barged into their lives, he took her uninjured hand and lovingly kissed and caressed her fingers.

"There is something that they can't change or take away though," he told her honestly. "I love you, no matter what."

"I love you too," she whispered, gazing steadily at him, "no matter what." Pulling her softly into his embrace and holding her with no intention of letting go, he sighed into her ear.

"They can't ever take that away Sara, not ever."


End file.
